All In Your Head
by TheInvisibleShapeshifter
Summary: The people and events of a country affect its personification. Unfortunately for Lithuania, his is ranked one of the highest for suicide.


He was with Poland the first time it really affected him. He remembers the sudden pain in his wrists, dropping the tray of tea he was carrying, seeing the horrible slashes through the veins of his wrists gushing blood. He had let out a startled and pained cry, and had run for the bathroom, holding his forearms against his torso to keep the blood from escaping.

His shout had brought Poland charging after him. The blonde found him in the bathroom desperately pressing rags against his wrists-_there was so much blood, why wouldn't it stop?- _crying from the sheer amount of pain and terror he was in.

"What's wrong? Liet, you're, like, freaking me out! Are you hurt?" Poland asked. '_Why is he asking me that? Can't he see it? The incisions, the crimson liquid flowing from his wrists, the red stains on his shirt and the rags?_

He was unaware that he had been babbling this to Poland the second the question had left the cross-dresser's lips.

"Can't you see it? Can't you see the blood? O God, I can't stop the bleeding! It's everywhere, Poland, the blood's everywhere!" His heart was pounding-_ making the blood spurt out faster-_

Poland grabbed his face and forced Lithuania to look him in the eyes-_ why isn't he helping me? does he want me to die?- _snapping "Lithuania! Calm down! There is no blood, what are you talking about?" Poland's voice barely made it through his panic hazed mind.

The Pole transitioned his hands to Lithuania's wrists, gently pulling the underside-_ the side with the incisions pouring blood-_ up between the two of them.

"Lithuania... look." The blonde's voice was quiet and serious, calming the panicked nation (though only slightly). "There is no blood. There are no slits or wounds of any kind. It's all in your head."

_It's all in your head._

He looked from Poland's worried green eyes to his wrists. There was no blood. I_t's all in your head. _His wrists were completely fine, with barely a hint of red- _from where he pressed to stop the flow of blood-_ on his perfectly fine, not-bloody wrists. _It's all in your head. _As his legs gave out, and he sank, trembling, into Poland's arms, he repeated- over and over again-

_It's all in your head._

* * *

He could feel the bile in the back of his throat, the haze filling his head and blocking his senses- _could see the empty bottles around him, the last one in his hand- _and could taste in his mouth the alcohol now coursing through his system, destroying his insides. He blinked sluggishly. _Strange, _he thought, _I haven't touched any alcohol in years._ The image flashed through his mind again. This image- no, this memory... it wasn't his.

He staggered to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. Spots danced before his eyes, and he barely made it to the toilet before pain exploded in his gut and he was forced to hurl the contents of his stomach out into the porcelain bowl. The bile stung his throat, and his eyes and nose started streaming a bit. The pain in his abdomen continued to build.

_It's all in your head, _a familiar voice in the back of his mind whispered. _Oh sure,_ he thought, _it's all in my head. _Curling into a ball of agony, he decided that that was the biggest pile of bull shit he had ever heard. _This is most definitely not in my head, _he decided. The memory- _dropping the newly emptied bottle and going limp- _appeared before his eyes.

_Well, _he reconsidered, _most of it isn't._

* * *

_He was on fire._ That was the first thing that hit him when he felt the pain start racing along his skin- _the flames following the trails of flammable liquid as it dripped over his body- _He couldn't help but scream and fall to the floor, writhing in agony.

No one came to help him; his house was empty, devoid of life-_ except for him, though he wished he was dead, so that the pain would end, end now, oh God, make it stop, make it stop!_

_It's all in your head. _The pain subsided slightly. _It's all in your head, _he echoed the voice._ It's all in your head, it's all in your head, it's all in your head, _he told himself, repeating it like a mantra. Bit by agonizing bit, the burning sensation- _no, it wasn't just a sensation, it was so real- _left him, limp and panting on the floor.

_It's all in your head._

* * *

He sighed happily as he ran the wash cloth across the table's surface. Cleaning had always calmed him down, and he had been needing this, what with the thing that was starting to happen more and more often. The seemingly random bursts of pain and visions of death were really scaring him. He never knew when they were going to hit, making him paranoid around others. He wanted to tell someone, but at the same time, he didn't want anyone to know.

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind. He would finish cleaning, relax, and enjoy the rest of his day. He turned to wet the rag and-_ ran a length of rope through his hands, testing its strength. As if he had practiced, hands- _that weren't his, he realized- _began twisting and knotting the rope into a noose._

He stumbled back into the table. _It's happening again, _he thought. His heartbeat picked up and- _he secured one end tightly, slipping the noose around his neck-_

He could feel the rope chafing against the skin of his neck. No. _Stop. Don't- he jumped. With a sharp jerk-_

Lithuania clawed at his neck. _He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe! _He tugged, clawed and fought, but he couldn't get the _(nonexistent)_ rope off- _his neck was broken._

* * *

He was sitting in the window seat on the second floor. He loved watching the sky and the city lights in the distance. He often imagined-_ pulling open the window, leaning out, positioning his feet for the jump- _he jerked up, startled.

The tranquil feeling inside had vanished, replaced with emotions that most definitely were not his, from the anxiety buzzing in his chest to the deep sadness that settled over his whole body, so heavy it almost hurt- _he was falling, the ground racing up to meet him as everything else blurred- _he opened his eyes _(when did he close them?)_ and found himself crouching in the frame of the now open window.

He scrambled back, heart pounding at the sight of the terrifying drop_- he was falling, he was gonna hit the_ ground- pain arched through his body, and everything went black.

* * *

-_He held the vial of deadly liquid carefully between his numb fingers, using his free hand to pull the stopper-_ Lithuania tightened his grip on the cup of tea held in his grasp. He-_ raised it to his lips, tilting back to down the poison-_ dropped his tea.

The cup shattered when it hit the ground, its contents splattering across the tiled floor. He crouched down to pick up the shards-_burning down his throat-_ He coughed harshly, windpipe constricting as what felt like glass made its way through his intestines.

His legs buckled, leaving him sprawled on the floor-_ and he could feel, minute by minute, his body's functions shutting down-_ he trembled. The poison made its way through his veins, turning his own blood against him-_ his skin turning splotchy red, the tissue under his nails following suit- _his cells weren't taking in the oxygen they needed. Lithuania clawed at the floor, wishing the end would come more swiftly.

* * *

One second he was dry, the next he was drenched and -_he couldn't stop the water as it forced its way into his lungs- _hacking and shivering on the ground. He gasped-_ sucking in more water- _and struggled for air _-the dark depths surrounding him, the light above shrinking as he sank-_

He tried to force himself to stop panicking, to ignore the images- _memory- _that was-_really happening, right now, to someone else- _The freezing water was making him lose focus, his limbs-_ losing feeling as everything faded to black._

* * *

He had managed to keep the episodes hidden from other countries so far. Minus that one time, even Poland didn't know. So why was this happening now? Here, in the middle of a meeting, in a room full of nations? His wrists stung- _he could feel the incisions, the blood dripping from the slits- _he tried not to glance down, but ended up looking anyway-_ at the crimson spreading across his sleeves, pooling where he rested them on the table in front of him- _

He jumped when a hand was laid on his shoulder. Turning, he saw that Germany stood behind him.

"Are you alright, Lithuania?" The tall blonde asked. He could only nod numbly. Though he looked unconvinced, Germany didn't pressure him. The other nation returned to his seat next to Italy.

"Seriously Liet, are you, like, okay. Like, you look totally pale and kind of shaky." Said Poland from beside him. _Is it that obvious? Maybe I should leave..._

He glanced once more at the growing pool of blood. Nobody else could see it, could they? Poland suddenly gripped his arm- _aggravating the cuts, making them gush more blood- _

"Liet?" His voice sounded muted over the dull roar in his head. He ignored Poland in favor of staring at the blood- _it was getting everywhere, on the table, his paperwork, Poland's hand-_ his heart beat faster and faster_ - he couldn't stop it, the growing flow of red liquid- _How could they not see it? He was bleeding out, but no one was noticing, no one could even see his pain, the blood-

-_He can see the glint of a a razor, feel the cool steel as it's dragged along his skin-_ the already large puddle grew as more incisions were added to his wrists, the fresh pain making him lean forward into it as dark spots flickered before his eyes.

_-the razor hacked haphazardly at his veins, no longer keeping in the bounds of smooth, straight slices- _His arm was a disgusting, bloody mess of ripped skin and pain alone would kill him, if he wasn't already dying.

_You're not dying. This isn't real. None of this is real. This is all in your head._ Except for the fact that for someone, somewhere in his country, this was reality. He finally realized the truth as he slumped in his still-warm pool of blood. _This is real (except it isn't). Either way..._

_It's all in your head._

* * *

He felt empty. That was the first thing that entered his mind as he set down his papers and left the office. It was like-_ he had nothing else to live for. Might as well-_ Stop. No; he refused to let his mind go any further (_as if it were that simple)_. _- he loaded the gun (only one bullet was necessary) and clicked the chamber shut-_ No. No, this was not happening. _It's not real,_ he told himself, though he knew-_it was finally going to be over-_

_It's all in your head (though it wasn't). - He raised the gun to his head- _and could feel the cold metal press against it. _It's all in your head. _Tears streamed down his face, knowing that he couldn't stop, couldn't help someone realize that no matter how bad things were, this was not the answer- _and pulled the trigger. _

_BLAM. _

_It's all in your head._

* * *

**Pretty morbid for my first fic. Poor Liet. His country is ranked number one for suicide rate in Europe, and third in the entire world. **

**I tried to incorporate what I found into this: According to Wikipedia, most suicides in Lithuania are caused by alcohol poisoning. On a a world health website thing, I found it was ranked number 5 for death by poison.**

**On that same site, I found it is ranked number 14 for drowning, and number 11 for falls. It was noted on Wikipedia that one of the most prominent suicides was this guy who set himself on fire in the town square.**

**You can tell by the quality that I was getting lazy towards the end. I was tired putting this fic off, so I decided to just end it while I was still motivated. My apologies in advance for any grammar, format, or spelling mistakes, for I wrote nearly all of this on my kindle.**


End file.
